She’s Not As Pretty As You,” I

The Night Crackled ... Everything Had Turned To Static Electricity In The Heat. I Combed My Hair To Watch The Sparks Fly From The Ends.

His Voice Was Cloves And Nightingales, It Took Us To Spice Markets In The Celebs, We Drifted With Him On A Houseboat Beyond The Coral Sea. We Were Like Cobras Following A Reed Flute.

Take My Advice. Stay Away From All Broken People.

This Involves More Than I Can Discuss Here, But Do It. Read The Writers Of Great Prose Dialogue-people Like Robert Stone And Joan Didion. Compression, Saying As Little As Possible, Making Everything Carry Much More Than Is Actually Said. Conflict. Dialogue As Part Of An Ongoing World, Not Just Voices In A Dark Room. Never Say The Obvious. Skip The Meet And Greet.

Poppies Bleed Petals Of Sheer Excess. You And I, This Sweet Battle Ground.